


Peter x Reader

by klatukatt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Semi-Public Sex, Terror, The Lonely - Freeform, prgnant???, reader can be any gender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 03:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19821814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klatukatt/pseuds/klatukatt
Summary: You are definitely not trying to attract any attention as you read your book in a crowded bar. But Lonely attention is exactly what you are going to get.





	Peter x Reader

You brought your book to the bar because of course you want to be alone. It’s not like the book is inviting company; it’s a heady piece of historical research about your favorite fictional character, so not a conversation starter. You are painting a picture of aloofness, perched at the end of the bar in the far corner of the establishment, reading a book, delicately sipping your drink, and fooling no one. You cross your legs and read the same page for the fifth time.

You didn’t notice when he sat down next to you but when you feel his presence you close your book and fix him with a practiced glare. He was older than you would have liked, sporting a coarse beard and a long, thick coat despite the summer heat. His strange hat seemed to silhouette him and muted the rest of the bar in comparison. You were about to open your mouth and brush him off but his eyes softened at the contact and his slight smile made you pause, like he knew exactly what you were going to say.

“I hope this isn’t too forward,” he said in a raspy English voice. “It does seem like you want to be alone.”

All thoughts of rebuffing this man have fled and you lean forward, intrigued. He places his hand over yours.

“We often feel at our most alone when we are adrift in a sea of others.”

Later you will think about how strange it was to hear his voice so clearly over the pulsing music but for now you introduce yourself clumsily and ask who he is.

“My name is Peter Lukas, and I was hoping you would accompany me on a stroll through the city.”

He stands and you stand too, as if it were the only thing in the world left to do. All pretense of pretending this wasn’t what you wanted is gone.

Outside the aire is cooler but still warm enough for only a single layer. You wonder how Peter’s hand, still entwined with yours, could be so clammy and cold.

After a minute he speaks again. “It seems strange, walking these streets with another person.”

You laugh, thinking of all the other times you led a stranger this way. You tell him you enjoy the company.

“Yes, I can tell. You enjoy not being seen even when you are very close to another person.” He pulls you around to face him. “Even intimately close.”

Peter is only slightly taller than you so it is easy for him to kiss your waiting lips. His kiss is deep, but too gentle, like he’d rather be somewhere else, despite his firm grip around your waist. He pulls back too soon with something like embarrassment.

“Let me show you something.”

You take a quick look around to make sure he’s not pulling you into a creepy alley or a waiting van, but instead he is heading further into the open, over towards the freeway. This evening keeps getting stranger but you let that fear excite you rather than push you away. You know how to protect yourself and you’re not ready to give up on this man just yet.

He stops you on the highest point of the overpass, eight lanes of late night traffic rushing away beneath you. “What do you see?” he asks.

You lean over the railing, letting Peter slip behind you and wrap his hands around your torso. You tell him the city looks beautiful at night. He whispers “What do you hear?” into the crook of your neck. You tell him you hear the rush of cars and are surprised that he can hear you. His hands have found their way under your shirt and you throw your head back against Peter’s shoulder. You twist around to face him and in that instant find your chest in now bare, pressing into the wool of Peter’s coat. You paw at the buttons, desperate to find entry and warmth against his distant skin. Peter stops your attempts with another kiss.

This kiss is different, domineering. Fingers twine through your hair at the back of your head as his other hand slips into your waistband and pulls your pelvis to him, splitting your legs with his thigh. You shouldn’t let him do this in such a public space. Your entire back is exposed to open air as well as half of your ass. You pull back from him, trying to regain your balance. Peter smiles and for a moment his hand covers your eyes before brushing your hair out of the way.

“I want to try this again. What do you hear?” You are pressed to Peter’s chest as his hands slide down, exposing more of your skin to the suddenly frigid air. What you thought was traffic now sounds like the ocean.

“Good,” says Peter. “Now, tell me what you see.”

You turn your nude form to look out over the edge and see waves crashing against the cliffs far below. What you thought were distant buildings are groves of trees on far off islands. A sense of vertigo overwhelms you but Peter’s strong hand catches you by the neck and then slides down to rest on your chest, providing you stability. His other hand is between your legs, arousal pushing away all confusion and cold.

When he enters you his rhythm is the same as the crashing below. You reach out for leverage, both to steady yourself and to push yourself back and meet Peter’s intensity. When your thrusting matches his you close your eyes, only for a second.

You can’t feel anything. Everything is gone. The cold on your skin, the scent of the salt air, the painful friction of your hips on the wood barrier, and Peter.

It’s all gone.

It’s just you.

You are floating in a void and the soreness in your loins turns to a burning terror. You scream.

The pressure between your legs is indescribable and all your muscles strain though you are holding still. Your tears fall into sea foam and are lost. Your body is overtaken by inevitable numbness and silence.

* * *

You are curled up next to the barrier, still on the overpass, and Peter crouches in front of you, his hand lightly touching your hair surprising you into consciousness.

“Sorry, I wish we had more time, but I am very busy at the moment. Take care of that for me, will you?” His fingertips lightly brush your stomach. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

Peter kisses you softly on the head then disappears off down the sidewalk.

You stumble home. Your head is dizzy and painful. It must be very late, you think to yourself, to have no one else out on the streets. What time is it, five? Six A.M.? You left the bar while it was still open, how long were you away with Peter?

Slipping into your bed doesn’t give you much comfort. Everything is much too quiet.


End file.
